The Reunion
by RosieAnnieUSA
Summary: Sometimes, the world is a small place. Written for a challenge.


"Five dollars a night? For one room? Are you kiddin' me?" Hannibal Heyes' voice rose in disbelief.

The desk clerk was not intimidated by the dark-haired cowboy.

"No, sir. It's not just a room. It's a suite, very comfortable, with bath and full breakfast included. The price is very reasonable for what you get."

"I bet it is. You're sure that's the only room available?"

"Absolutely sure. Except for the Presidential Suite. That's ten dollars."

Heyes took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh, creating a cloud of dust. The clerk sniffed disapprovingly but said nothing.

"I can't believe every other room's taken." He pointed a gloved finger at the cubbyholes lining the wall behind the clerk, all but a few containing keys. "It looks like most of the rooms are available."

The clerk shook his head. "No, sir. Every room in town's reserved for the reunion. Many guests are arriving early tomorrow morning. If you hadn't come a day early, the Continental Suite would've been gone, too. The inexpensive rooms always go first. There's no lodging available anywhere in town, unless it's sleeping in the stable with your horses."

Heyes put his hat back on. "I got to talk to my partner first."

"Of course, sir. But don't take too long."

Jed Curry was waiting at the hotel's hitching post with the horses.

"Oh, no. I know that look. They're full, aren't they?"

"Almost. Cheapest room they got is a suite for five dollars."

"A suite?" Curry's eyebrows rose with interest. "Is breakfast included?"

"I should've known you'd ask that. Yes, breakfast is included, and baths, too."

Curry turned away and started unbuckling his saddlebags. "That's all I need to know. For once, we're flush, and we got more'n enough to cover the cost. I ain't sleeping rough one more night."

"Fine." Heyes went to get his saddlebags. "At least I can rely on you to get our money's worth at breakfast."

"You'll need five dollars' worth of soap just to get that trail dust off you. Besides, that next job you lined up for us sounds like a humdinger. I want to rest up before we go to Austin."

The clerk looked up in surprise as the cowboy returned, with an equally dusty and dirty companion.

"We'll take the Continental Suite," Heyes said. "Just for tonight."

"A wise decision, sir, given the circumstances. The five dollars is payable in advance."

"Figures." Heyes looked at Curry, who only smiled benignly and flipped the register open. Heyes grudgingly reached inside his vest to extract coins.

"Thank you, gentlemen. Here are your keys. Your horses are out front, yes? I'll have a boy take them around to our stable. Their care is included as well. I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay. By the way, all are welcome at the reunion, even strangers like yourselves. It's sure to be an enriching experience."

Curry looked up from signing his name. "What reunion is that? Family?"

"In a way, yes. Every year, the First Baptist Church holds a 3-day reunion and revival for all its members who've moved away. They call it a family reunion. That's why the town's sold out."

"The whole town? Sheesh. Must be a lot of people coming for this shindig."

"This hotel is completely booked, save for the suites, and all the other lodging in town is full, too, except maybe rooms at the saloon. Not too many Baptists go there."

"At least, not when other Baptists might see them," Heyes said.

When the men entered their suite, they dropped their saddlebags on the floor and stared at the luxurious surroundings.

"Reminds you of the old days, don't it, Kid?"

"Sure does. Spending money like water and enjoying the high life. Got to say, I miss that part of it."

"Thanks to a decent job that actually paid us for once, we can enjoy that high life tonight before we head south. I admit I wasn't looking forward to another night sleeping under the stars either. But before we get those baths and go for dinner, I'd like a whiskey, followed closely by another whiskey."

Curry put a companionable hand on his friend's shoulder. "Now that's my kind of Hannibal Heyes plan. Lead the way, partner."

The nearest saloon was only a five-minute walk from the hotel. "Convenient," Heyes noted. "A man can't get too lost after a late night."

Only a few tables were occupied. No one was seated at the bar except the bartender, who was idly reading a newspaper. He looked up at the sound of the squeaking doors.

"Welcome to the Iron Rail, gentlemen. How about some liquid refreshment to wet your dry throats?"

Heyes grinned. "Now that's the kind of hello I like from a barkeep. Two whiskies, in clean glasses."

The man folded his newspaper and got up. "That's the only way we serve drinks here. This is a high-class place."

Curry looked around at the dingy tables, the piles of dust accumulated on the uneven plank floor, and the lurid paintings faded by years of cigar smoke. "Don't pay my friend no never mind. He wasn't brought up proper like me."

The bartender served up two glasses. He pointed towards a shelf of whiskey bottles. "How fancy you boys feeling today?"

"Something in the middling range. My mama told me not to put on airs."

"Your mama was a wise woman. Kentucky bourbon sound about right for you?"

"When does bourbon ever sound wrong?" Full glasses in hands, Heyes and Curry touched their glasses together with a gentle "clink" before sipping.

"You own this place?" Heyes asked the bartender.

"That I do. Lock, stock, and barrel. Name's Fred Bleeker."

Heyes pointed to himself. "Joshua Smith, and this proper man next to me is Thaddeus Jones."

Bleeker snorted in mild disbelief. "Whatever you say. You ain't Baptists, are you?"

"Not recently," Curry said. "Why?"

"You might want to buy yourselves a bottle. Might be harder to get a drink once there's more Baptists in town. Some of the church ladies are all for this new-fangled temperance movement, and they got the idea it's their mission in life to make it hard for the rest of us to enjoy a drink."

"I've heard of this temperance business," Heyes said. "The Women's Christian Temperance Movement, ain't it? They got some crazy idea to shut down saloons because – well, I ain't sure why precisely – but they don't want anybody to sell alcohol, anywhere."

"That's it. They're saying they want a full prohibition on sales of beer and whiskey and everything good. They'd like to put me out of business in one fat hurry. You ever hear of such a damn fool thing?"

"Not lately. How could they put your saloon out of business?"

"They stand out on the sidewalk in front and preach gospel and sing temperance songs."

Heyes and Curry looked at each other, puzzled. "That ain't illegal. Is it?"

"No, it ain't illegal, but it sure ain't good for business. That's why I say, buy a bottle to take with you, unless you're fine with pushing through a picket line of church ladies."

"Yeah, I see how that might be a problem for a decent man who's got a powerful thirst," Heyes said.

"And we are definitely decent, law-abiding men," Curry added, earning a sideways frown from his partner.

"How do these ladies feel about poker?"

Bleeker snorted, loudly this time. "Games of chance? What do you think?"

"I think, maybe they don't like that either."

"You think right. I talked to the sheriff about making them move, but he says, they're just exercising their constitutional rights. I say, why can't they exercise them rights away from my front door? Men got to have someplace to go and relax."

"Amen to that," Heyes said. "On that subject, how about a refill, Fred?"

"You got it." He got the bottle to pour but froze in mid-motion, holding the bottle in mid-air. "Oh no. Not again."

Heyes and Curry looked around, alarmed. Their hands rested on their guns. "What is it?"

He put the bottle down with a thud. "Just what I was telling you, boys. Looks like the show's about to start."

Both men turned to look. Two women stood outside the swinging doors, staring in.

Curry turned back to the bar. "You mean they're going to start singing?"

"And block the door while they do it. Damn it all! Ain't they got nothing better to do than ruin my business? It's un-American, that's what it is."

More female faces appeared, crowding together on the sidewalk. The patrons who'd been drinking peacefully at their tables staggered to their feet.

"Tell you what, Fred. We'll take that bottle and thank you. Is there a back way out?"

"In a saloon? Are you kiddin' me? I got two back ways out."

Heyes threw some coins on the counter. "Maybe we'll use those back ways to come in later, if there's a female picket line out in front. We were hoping to play some poker after we eat."

Fred's grin showed the gaps between his brown teeth. "With any luck, those ladies will go home to make dinner for their families, and we can get back to serving liquor here without no show out front. Problem is, there ain't no telling's what's gonna happen once they get started."

"Nope, I guess not." Fred guided the men through a door behind the bar, along with the few remaining drinkers, and they found themselves in an alley where the small group dispersed.

"Let's get out of here while the getting's good," Heyes said, tucking the bottle under his arm.

"You go ahead," Curry told him. "I want to get a look at the show."

"Are you crazy? We're the kind of men they're preaching against."

"I want to see how many come. Maybe it ain't so bad as Fred says. Anyway, why're you arguing with me? If I stay here, it means you get the first bath."

"Can I help it if I'm concerned about the welfare of my partner? Alright, I'm going. Don't be too late. I'm gonna need some nourishment soon."

"When have you ever seen me late for a meal?" As Heyes went right, Curry went left, circling around to the street in front of the saloon.

The group on the sidewalk blocking the saloon's entrance looked harmless. He saw six women, dressed simply and modestly in gingham dresses and large bonnets that obscured their faces. Each one carried what he assumed was a Bible. Passers-by walked around them without a second glance. He leaned against a hitching post, preparing to wait and see what developed. One stout woman dressed all in black raised her hands, trying to get the group's full attention. She took papers from the back of her Bible and gave one to each women, which they all then studied intently. She blew on some round metal thing that made a musical note. The ladies all tried to hum in tune with it. Curry crossed his arms and tried to get comfortable.

The leader waved her hand and counted down to four. The six women started singing, with more enthusiasm than skill, something about demon rum and rescuing lives. When the chorus repeated "lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine" a few times, Curry got restless. He looked around and saw a few people in the street stopping to watch and listen for a moment, then apparently lose interest almost as quickly as he had done.

The song went on for a few more off-key verses. When it ended, a few people applauded listlessly, earning exasperated looks from the women. Curry watched the group start to go their separate ways. He imagined Fred Bleeker would be happy that this interruption to his business had been brief.

He stood up and dusted off the seat of his pants. He thought maybe he'd go for a walk around the town, check out the sheriff's office and scout paths out of town, should he and Heyes need to make a quick exit.

Suddenly, he felt someone was watching him. He turned around slowly, trying to appear calm, but all semblance of calm left him when he saw her startled expression and her big brown eyes that widened with surprise. She clutched her Bible close to her chest, as if for protection.

He felt his jaw drop, then closed his mouth self-consciously. Mimicking her pose, he took off his hat and held it against his chest.

"Hello, Grace. Fancy meeting you here." He watched the play of emotions wash over her face, passing too quickly for him to interpret. She walked towards him, slowly.

"Hello, Thaddeus." The shy smile he remembered appeared. "Are you here for the reunion? It doesn't really start until tomorrow."

"No, me and Joshua are just here for the night. We're heading out in the morning." She stood only a few feet from him, so near that she had to look up to see his face.

"Oh. I see. You're a day early for it, anyway."

"Being early ain't like us, you know. We're usually a day late and a dollar short." She laughed, as he'd hoped she would do.

"What're you doing here, Grace? Thought you were going back to Boston."

She nodded. "I was. The stage was delayed here for a few days, and I got to meet some people from the Baptist church. They're doing so much good here, Thaddeus!" Words started to rush out of her. "They're running a program for unfortunate women, helping them to leave their work in saloons and the like. And the temperance movement I'm involved with helps inebriates give up alcohol and recover their lives. I was so impressed by all the good things happening here, I decided to stay and fulfill my mission here. I felt God called me here to do His work."

"You're not preaching to cowboys on Sunday mornings, are you?"

She laughed again, more robustly this time. "No, Thaddeus. I learned my lesson. I can do God's work in different ways. I was blessed to find that out." She looked him full in the face, all shyness gone. "I know I promised you I'd go to Boston. I hope you can forgive me for not following through with my promise."

""Course I do. Anyway, there ain't nothing to forgive. You got to do what's right for you." He bent down to be closer to her, to talk more privately on the public sidewalk. "Are you happy, Grace?"

She looked straight up at him, all shyness gone. "Very much so. Everything has worked out so well here, that I really do think I was led to this town and to this church."

He put his hat on. "Well. I'm glad to hear that. You deserve to be happy. You're a good woman."

"Thank you, Thaddeus. You're a good man." He shook his head slightly.

"You don't really know that. I got my faults, lots of them. More'n you know."

"But I do know it. You truly are a decent, kind man." A wry expression crossed her face. "Even if you didn't come here for the reunion."

"Thank you, Grace." They smiled at each other. "Are you seeing anyone special?"

She blushed. "Yes. I am. He's very kind. I think . . . I like to think we have an understanding."

'That's good. That's good." He took a deep breath.

"You're part of this temperance movement, huh?"

"Oh yes. I've seen how demon rum destroys lives. Not just the life of the inebriate, but of his wife, his children, his community . . . it's truly awful. If we're going to save lives and save families, alcohol must be prohibited."

"You'll pardon me if I don't join you on that. Me and Joshua, we enjoy having a whiskey or two. It don't hurt us none."

"I suppose not. It hurts so many other people, though."

"Maybe." He reached out and took her hand gently in his. She didn't pull away. "It was good to see you, Grace."

"You, too, Thaddeus."

"Goodbye, Grace. Take care of yourself."

"I . . . yes. Goodbye, Thaddeus. I'm glad I saw you." She looked at him full on, seriously, intently. "I really do wish you all the best, you know."

"I know. Same to you." She withdrew her hand from his and held the Bible to her chest again, hugging it with both arms. He tipped his hat. "Good night. I hope you enjoy the reunion."

"I will. Good night, Thaddeus."

He gave her one last smile, then stepped around her, going back to the hotel. She watched his retreating back for a moment before walking away in the opposite direction.

When he returned to the suite, he found Heyes reclining on the couch, feet propped on an expansive ottoman, holding a book in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. His hair was still damp from the bath, and he had changed into the mostly-clean clothes that had been packed in his saddlebag.

"Good timing. Your bath should be ready just about now."

Curry sank down in an overstuffed armchair. "Thanks for getting that organized."

"My pleasure. It's easier to be around you when you don't smell more like a horse than your horse does." He put the book down on the couch. "How was the performance?"

"I've seen better."

"I bet." Heyes' eyes narrowed. He looked more closely at his friend. "Did anything happen?"

"Happen? Like what?" Curry took off his hat and placed it on an end table.

"I don't know. You look kind of funny." He sat up straight, feet on the floor. "Anything happen I should know about?"

"No. Nothing you need to know about."

"So something did happen."

"No." He reached across, and Heyes gave him the whiskey. He watched Curry drain the glass.

"There's plenty more. You can even have your own glass."

"This is good for now." He stood up slowly. "Think I'll grab some fresh clothes and go for that bath. Down the hall?"

"Yeah. To the right."

"Good."

"Kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Curry shook his head. He felt about a hundred years old.

"No, nothing. When I come back, let's find some food, alright? Some honky tonk where they got big steaks, lots of beer, and none of the women carry a Bible or talk about temperance."

"And people say I have all the good ideas."

He looked at Heyes' concerned face. It was good to have a friend who accepted his moods and silence, without needing to know details. "Thanks, Heyes. Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome, Kid." Heyes picked up his book again and began to read.

9


End file.
